This time last year I was in hospital, looking blearily at a sleeping baby (ha! that didn’t last) and wondering what on earth I would do once I got him home. Yes, Loudboy is one today and, as Amberjee says, this is a good time to reflect.

So this is what he looked like on that day:

And this is him now:

What have we learned? I’ve learned to trust my instincts, to relax and to enjoy the time I have with him. Loudboy has learned how to shriek, walk and run his cars along the floor. I may not be the parent I imagined I would be, but Loudboy isn’t the child I imagined either. He’s far more entertaining and enthralling and he has managed to reach a year without me doing anything particularly awful (ignoring a few bumps and the time I fed him chilli).

So I’ll stick a candle in a cupcake (additive-free) and say here’s to birthdays, cuddling our babies and listening to that inner voice that tells us to ignore everyone and do it our way.

Have you seen this show on Channel 4? It’s a disgrace. The poor parents having their lives dissected in front of the camera in those first precious weeks. I had to turn it off half way into the episode this week. I think I’m done. Not to mention the famed Claire Verity and her sleep through the night at 8 weeks methods. Sleep Is For the Weak is here to tell you THAT CAN’T BE RIGHT!

Melanie at Melanie’s Daily Blurb has written a brilliant piece on the show, the approaches, and the “£1000 a day don’t look at your baby or dare pick them up” nanny.

As hard as times are in the early days, they do grow and develop and become ever more wonderful day by day. I laugh as the Imp develops his own sense of humour, he makes me laugh, he laughs when I laugh as if he really gets my joke. It’s the sweetest. And despite all the sleep deprived days and nights, I wouldn’t trade him at all. Parenthood truly is wonderful.

I help out at a breastfeeding clinic. Most weeks I have at least one mum asking how she can get her baby to sleep more than 3 or 4 hours at a time. Most often said baby is 3 or 4 weeks old. I never know what to say. I can’t very well say, oh don’t worry, my baby still doesn’t sleep more than 3 or 4 hours at a time because then I feel like I’m committing them to 8 months of hell and I’m probably meant to be giving these new mums confidence, not hanging a black cloud over their heads. I don’t want to say that 3 straight hours is bliss and count yourself lucky, because I know they are feeling awful anyway and overwhelmed by the whole responsibility and interrupted sleep thing.

So what do I say? I mostly say I know it’s hell, but it’s normal and it will pass. Do what you can to survive it.

Ok, halfpintpixie hit Tibsy and I with a tag, so here’s my part for what it’s worth …

8 random things about me

I ditched the corporate world in favour of teaching yoga, and now it seems that I’ve ditched everything in favour of hanging out with a super cute 7 month old. Now I never want to ditch that.

I gave birth at home in 4 hours. It seems in retrospect that that was the easy part.

One of my secret pleasures is going to the movies by myself. Not that I’ve done that in 7 months.

I spent 3 months in India getting up pre-dawn to throw my body around a yoga mat for a few hours and then recover by drinking excessive amounts of chai. It was weird to just relive some of it myself here.

I like to cook. Sshh, don’t tell anyone. My favourite part is grinding spices in my mortar and pestle or smashing up basil in it with a little olive oil.

I love London but I miss home. I love London because of all the little villages, the fact that I never have to go very far to get what I need and see people I know. I love that the staff of the local french cafe all know my name and invite me to their childrens’ birthday parties. I love the guy in the shop who sneaks me cake and pastries because he doesn’t like his boss. I love the Indian ladies in the health shop who give me free pears from their tree and have wonderful unlabelled homemade curries in the freezer for those times I’ve lost the energy to cook.

I love the smell of second hand bookshops. It is like history is cluttered in the shelves and between the pages.

I will give up anything for my breastfeeding son, but not my daily coffee.

Will that do halfpint? I know you added a bonus points number 9, but I can’t think of any right now. I’ll edit it if I think of something super.

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